


Snips and Spice

by tungstenpincenez



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Female Sherlock Holmes, Mild Sexual Content, Pregnancy, Sibling Incest, holmescest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-07
Updated: 2016-11-07
Packaged: 2018-08-29 18:52:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8501359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tungstenpincenez/pseuds/tungstenpincenez
Summary: Sherlock, with Mycroft in tow, surprises their parents with a startling announcement.





	

The door opened.

“Sherlock! Mycroft! Er, come in!”

“Hello, Daddy!” Sherlock gave her father her widest smile and threw herself at him, pecking his cheek.

Father patted her cheek and smiled uncertainly. “Hello, Lovely-locks. Were we expecting you?” His brows drew together at the shake of her head. “Are you in some sort of trouble?”

Sherlock pouted and leaned back in her father’s embrace. “I don’t _only_ show up when I’m in trouble. I was just here at Christmas _and_ I didn’t kill anyone this time!”

Behind her, Mycroft sighed and rolled his eyes.

“Sherlock! Mycroft! What—”

“Mummy!” Sherlock launched herself at her mum with the same enthusiasm with which she’d greeted her father.

Mummy returned the affection with equal fervour, but then put her wayward daughter at arm’s length. Peering around Sherlock, she asked, “What has she done now?”

“Mummy!” Sherlock stamped her foot. 

“Well?” Mummy looked sternly up at her. 

Sherlock huffed. But then she smiled mischievously and said, “You’re about to become grandparents! We came especially to tell you!”

Mycroft sighed again and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“What?!” chorused their flabbergasted parents.

“Mycroft can give you the details. I smell baking. I’m famished!” With that, Sherlock flounced into the kitchen.

Three pairs of eyes stared after her. Two then swivelled back and focussed on Mycroft, who could only shake his head in resignation.

“What Sherlock meant to say was that I’ve finally decided that I should start a family. In these modern times, this no longer requires a spouse. My dear sister has very kindly agreed to act as—”

“Womb for rent!” called Sherlock from the back of the house. “Although payment will be an infinite number of favours that I can call in whenever I wish.”

Mycroft huffed but continued calmly. “You know the nature of my job makes it difficult to trust a stranger with such a task, no matter the safety measures nor the most astringent stipulations put into place. You needn’t worry. For the duration of the pregnancy, Sherlock will be living in my flat, so that I may have some input in the nurturing—”

“You’ll kill each other!” Mummy exclaimed.

“Oh, _Mummy_ , really!” Sherlock returned to the foyer munching on a scone. “I’ll be sharing genes with the unborn. I’m not about to jeopardize my biological chance at immortality. Besides, I can have direct influence on how they turn out. And if we really get on one another’s nerves, I can always stay with Mary and John. Anyway, Mycroft has candidates lined up as the egg donors. You should be able to… do your grandparenting things sometime next year. Now, let’s go in and have tea before it grows cold.” She tucked a hand into the crook of her father’s arm and dragged him into the kitchen.

*~*~*~*

Pausing for breath, Mycroft nuzzled the side of her long, graceful neck and murmured, “I noticed you deliberately misled Mummy and Father into believing the children wouldn’t be born until the spring of next year.”

Sherlock placed her hands on both sides of his head to force his gaze back onto her. She smirked. “Think of how pleased they’ll be with their Christmas presents!”

“Always so dramatic.”

“Says the man who pointed CCTV cameras at John and kidnapped him to an abandoned warehouse.”

Sherlock pressed her lips to his. Mycroft moaned. He pulled her closer so that she was properly straddling him and began unbuttoning her blouse.

Between kisses, Sherlock said, “I may have to get pregnant again. There’s such freedom in not needing to bother with multiple contraceptives.”

Mycroft chuckled. “I’ll ask your thoughts on the matter again in a few months’ time. You may reconsider your position.”

“Oh, I’m sure we _both_ will have to reconsider positions by then.” She ground her hips against his erection, eliciting a groan. “This one would certainly be impossible.”

“I’m sure we’ll find something to suit,” Mycroft said in a strangled voice.

“By the way, you never told me how you convinced the donors to unwittingly contribute their DNA to our unborn,” she said as she loosened his tie.

“Dr Wescott is a very persuasive woman. She discoursed on the great, unintentional discoveries made through scientific curiosity. The fact that their eggs would be a part of the stem cell research on the ISS appealed to their sense of adventure.”

“I told you an entreaty to their sense of humanity would be unnecessary. They’ve surpassed in fields dominated by men; they deal in logic and reason, not emotions. Which one did you decide on?”

“The astrophysicist.”

Sherlock hummed in approval. “Mummy will be pleased. Another potential mathematician in the family.” She felt him momentarily stiffen. “What?” She pressed her palms against his chest and stared intently, noting the slight pink tinge of his cheeks. “What did I miss?”

Mycroft addressed her suprasternal notch. “That was certainly an important consideration. However, I… rather liked the increased chance of one of the children having curly hair.”

Sherlock brought his chin up and shifted her position slightly so he couldn’t avoid eye contact. “Oh, brother _mine_ , haven’t you always said such sentiment is only found on the losing side?” She peppered him with kisses, taking the sting out of her mocking.

Mycroft tightened his hold and kissed her breathless. “You know full well that I lost my heart long ago to the only worthy opponent, my love.”

“So I’m no longer a goldfish?” Sherlock raised an eyebrow.

Mycroft sighed. “You’ll never let me forget, will you? That one time. You must admit you tried my nerves that day.”

“I just wanted to play! You were so boring.”

Mycroft unclasped her bra and took a nipple into his mouth, making Sherlock gasp. “Am I boring you now?”

Sherlock moaned when he switched his attention to her other breast. She threaded her fingers through his hair and pressed closer. 

Later, sated and snuggled in the comfort of the bed, Sherlock murmured, “I hope that genetic engineering will be sufficiently advanced by the time the twins are grown so that they can have offspring without needing to involve a third party.” There was a slight wistfulness in her voice.

Mycroft’s brow furrowed as he searched her face. “You do know that the mitochondria from your eggs were successfully transplanted. They _do_ possess some of your DNA.” He hesitated briefly. “If you’re not averse to another pregnancy, we could find a donor to fertilize some of your eggs—”

“Oh, don’t fuss, My. I was just thinking how much more interesting a true combination of our gametes would be.”

He smiled and kissed her softly. “But genetics is only a part of the equation. You will have a strong hand in moulding them. To my detriment, I’m sure.”

She grinned. “You’re The Iceman. Aren’t you supposed to be indestructible?”

“Even a diamond has a weak spot.”

“Pressure points,” she mused. “Did Magnussen know about us? Is that why you let him do as he pleased?”

“He only knew you were my pressure point but never knew to what extent. I learned of his… obsession long before I was ever a target. While he was on British soil and within our reach, he was more useful than a nuisance because the hold he had on opponents in other countries was greater. It’s unfortunate that Lady Smallwood succumbed to the pressures from Downing Street to look into the Deputy Prime Minister’s scandal that CAM Global News ‘exclusively’ reported on.”

“Did he have a pressure point?”

“Several, which is why he made sure he found ways to control those in positions of power. There’s a reason his primary residence wasn’t in Copenhagen.”

“And his unexpected demise made for sufficient reprieve that you heeded your biological imperative?”

“It provides sufficient leverage to prevent MI-6 from putting you in harm’s way ever again.”

“And you claim caring is not an advantage.”

Mycroft caressed her cheek. “I meant it when I said your loss would break my heart.”

“We should start taking notes on _your_ changes in behaviour as well as mine. _You_ don’t even have the excuse of bothersome pregnancy hormones.”

“At least the nausea has significantly decreased in frequency.”

Sherlock made a face. “Those who propose the ability to digitize human consciousness so that it may be transplanted onto more durable synthetic material have, for once, stumbled upon the solution. Of course, the moralizing goldfish can only bemoan the pitfalls.”

“But perhaps they have a point. Without the emotional tether to the flesh, we would cease to derive pleasure from such things as sex… or music.”

“Or food.”

Mycroft tweaked her nose. “Do you want an omelette in the morning or poached eggs?”

“I’ll let the obnoxious blend of chemicals decide when the time comes.”

“Very well. Will you be at Bart’s or are you still studying the implanted _Listeria_ case?”

“Bart’s. Now that I don’t run much risk of contaminating my experiments, I need to finish testing hydrogen sulfide discolouration on those fingers.”

Mycroft rolled his eyes. “You’ll make sure the room is properly ventilated? I _will_ send Roundhay to shut down the lab again.”

“Oh all right. Keep that interfering coprolite away.”

“He saved your life that time. There are three lives at stake now.”

“Stop fussing, _Daddy dearest_. No wonder Mummy grumbles.” Sherlock gasped in outrage at Mycroft’s expression. “I am _not_ turning into Mummy!”

“Of course not, my love.”

Sherlock glared and turned her back to him. 

But a while later, when Mycroft pressed a kiss to her shoulder and closed the distance between them, a protective hand against her lower abdomen, she did not rebuff him.


End file.
